The Winter Ambush

I could feel the cold seep through the lining of my coat, and my stiff toes curling in my boots in search for warmth. The winter was relentless, assaulting me with heavy snow. I have long lost the sense of time; the thick cover of clouds prevented sunrays from casting light below.

My eyelids were gluing shut together from the condensation accumulating within the scarf tightly wrapped around my neck and face, shielding me from the sharp shards of flakes spewing in my direction. The crisp wind was unescapable within the bare woods, offering no shelter from the storm.

If I stopped and turned around, I knew I wouldn’t find the progress of my tracks; my footprints were erased from the snow after each step I took leading me further into the depths of the barren forest.

In the distance, a large heap of snow could be seen. As I quickened my steps and approached the snowbank, the structure became more visible: an igloo took shape. Hope warmed my body like a flame that was lit; there was a chance of survival. My pace became more frantic as the igloo came closer into view. My boots crunched heavily on the crisp layers of white tuff. Suddenly, I lost my balance as the ground beneath me gave in. My fall was cushioned, but I was down to my knees, unable to find a steady grip to lift myself back onto my feet. Thunder resonated beneath me, blanketing me in artic water.